The Future Past's Present
by Niko
Summary: Completed. The future of the past leads to present dangers for Dib (it'll all make sence one day) ZADR planed.
1. Chapter One

One of these days I'm gonna run out of things to write and wish I'd paced myself. Oh well! Beta-ed by Karyx!  
**  
  
The first thing Zim learned to love about Earth was its gravity. He'd never thought about it much before, but it made sense as he continued his studies. It all had to do with gravity. Irk's gravity was relatively high, at least 40% higher than that of Earth. And when such a strong force is pulling you down, it becomes rather hard to grow very much up. Over six long years on the rotten dirt ball had finally paid off, not in conquest but in height. Zim smiled at his six-foot tall reflection as he went over his daily grooming. He'd already bathed himself in paste and put on his normal attire. Though earth fashion had changed over time, he still kept to the basics of Irkin style. He wore a black T-shirt over a long sleeved black and fuchsia striped one with holes cut out at the end for his thumbs to stick out from. His pants were uniform black, with ankle high, black combat books pulled up over them. A quick look at his face made him thankful for another human progress. Since the funky-styled contact lens fetish, he hadn't had to wear his fake ones, telling all who asked that he'd special-ordered the ones they saw. It made sense that he would wear contact lenses anyway. He didn't have any ears. And with those pesky things gone the way of the vicious rat people, he had only to adorn his new wig. It was black as all the others had been but with a more I-just-woke-up-style to it, with a few ruby highlights to compliment his other features. Looking at himself again in the mirror, Zim smiled.  
  
"I make invading look gooood."  
  
"Looking gooooood," Gir reiterated, popping up from behind Zim's legs. "Can I play dress up now?"  
  
Zim nodded, picking up his small robot friend and standing him on the dresser so he could clothe him. As the years went on, school seemed to get longer. It didn't take a genius to figure out that leaving Gir alone at the base for a prolonged period of time was hazardous to the mission. By the time Zim had reached eighth grade, he had enrolled Gir in preskool. It was almost as fun as plotting the destruction of all humanity as he set the plague of destruction and hyperactivity known as Gir in the humans' hands. It did, however, require a new disguise; a Gir-proof disguise at that, which meant the zipper had to be in the back this time and that he wouldn't be able to dress himself. Baby blue overalls and a human head helmet that clasped onto the suit in the back were easily applied. Though at first, Zim had been worried about keeping Gir in preskool for the rest of the mission, fearing it would cause suspicion to have someone be a preskooler for years, Gir was pronounced 'special' and kept within his mental range. Irk be praised for 'advanced' technology.  
  
"There we go, Gir," Zim announced as he locked the red-haired helmet into place. Twin turquoise lights peered out from the head's mouth.   
  
"Today I'm gonna draw a mongoose!" the robot shouted, jumping down and running to the front door where he'd wait till they left.  
  
Zim didn't make him wait long. He packed his books into his bag and slung it over his shoulder by one strap. Not only had skool gotten longer but the books seemed to get heavier every year as well. He checked to make sure his neon green shoelaces were tied, then stepped out of his room and proceeded to the door, letting the ecstatic robot loose and locking the fortress behind him. He walked Gir to preskool first, then walked to his own hi skool. He'd thought about getting a car before but the stupid government required too much classified data. He especially didn't like the part about 'illegal aliens.' Besides, he'd been walking all over the city since he had first arrived. It wasn't exactly huge, nor was it as big a deal as some of his fellow teenagers made it out to be. Gaz, for instance.  
  
No sooner was the name thought than the telltale sound of her horn blasted from behind him. Zim jumped and ducked into the bushes, as he'd learned was the appropriate response when the she-devil was loose. He heard her tires squeal and peeked out in time to watch her make long black marks across the sidewalk before bouncing back into the road. If Gaz had just passed then it wouldn't be long at all. He'd give him to the count of ten.  
  
One. Two...eight TEN!  
  
Zim leapt from the bushes and pounced on a flailing body that fell beneath him. There was a satisfying, indescribable sound of air being knocked out of the other's body when the pavement finally reached them.  
  
"Good morning, Dib," Zim spat, standing up and brushing himself free of the bush pieces that had snagged him in his previous death roll.  
  
Dib on the other hand remained on the ground, one hand pressed against his chest as he coughed and breathed quickly, trying to regain what Zim had shocked out of him. "You...wretched...beast…" he managed between gasps.  
  
"I know. I know. Really, I'd loved to stay and talk, but I have to go to school and prepare to taunt you again," Zim said with a flip of his hand. "Otherwise, I'd love to stay and hear you complain and rave like the nutcase you so are."  
  
He looked down out of the corner of his eyes, a smirk lifting his brow and lips. Dib was still hunched over but slowly getting back up to his feet, managing not to step on his trench coat as he did.   
  
Dib hadn't changed much either; even less than Zim had. His hair was much the same as it had always been save longer. Some of the shorter pieces swayed across his ghostly pale face. The rest was a kind of frayed cut with the longest pieces dangling just past his shoulders and pulled back in a loose ponytail, with his sickle strand still poking up on top. He still wore glasses, obviously oblivious to the earth contact lens fashion, and his black trench coat with the v cut in back. His shirts had changed, though. Most of the time they were sleeveless turtlenecks, some harboring paranormal insignia, while his black pants and boots remained unchanged. And the sweetest victory of all was that he stood an inch shorter than Zim. While it made little difference to the human who was the taller, Zim relished in it.  
  
"Well, Dib, I guess I'll see you around. That is, if I look down."  
  
Dib narrowed his gaze, trying to shoot contempt at the alien like daggers or some other deadly projectile weaponry.   
  
"Just wait, Zim.... You'll be sorry!"  
  
"I'm sure I will be, puny earth monkey!" Zim laughed with his head strained backwards, putting everything he had into his victorious cackle of doom. He stopped as he neared the skool parking lot though, knowing well that uncalled for laughter drew as much unwanted attention as farting when the classroom was completely silent. Screams and breaking glass signaled once again that Gaz was in the area and Zim picked up his pace, making it into the building before the fiery vehicle of pain could run him down like a vampire piggy. Why did skool have to be a life and death battle?  
  
His locker was relatively close to his first period class so he stopped by there first, punching a few people in the back who thought they could walk in front of him at a pace way below satisfactory. Once he'd disposed of the books he didn't need and acquired the tools that he did, he crossed the hall and stepped into class. He was used to being the first there as being social in the halls wasn't quite his thing and Mrs. Sweet smiled at him with her long black eyelashes dusting her cheeks.  
  
"Good morning, Zim. And how are you today?"  
  
The sickening high pitch of her voice made him wince. "Just fine. Mrs. Sweet."  
  
"I'm so glad to here it!" She looked down at her nails and began to file them, the smell of nail polish remover violating Zim's sense of smell. He would take embalming fluid over the smell of that stuff any day.  
  
The bell rang, its three, off pitch bings of torment echoing in the near empty room, and soon the bodies of his classmates filled the tables. Most of them flocked to the back of the room, the less fortunate stuck with sitting moderately close to the teacher's desk. Zim always sat in the front, though. There was no use fighting over a choice seat when everyone was going to have to do and hear the same thing. Mostly note passing and whispered snickers went on back there, anyway, and whom did he have to communicate with? Not that he would want to communicate with the filthy earth beasts.   
  
With seconds left until the tardy bell rang, Dib slipped through the door, finding his seat on the far end of the front row and sitting soundlessly. It was minutes after the final bell rang that Mrs. Sweet noticed class had begun.  
  
"Oh, good morning class! How are you today?"  
  
Moans and noncommittal grumbling floated to the front of the room. Mrs. Sweet didn't seem to mind. "Today we're going to be learning about the oceans and all the fuzzy creatures that live under the sea!"  
  
Zim rolled his eyes. Mrs. Sweet seemed to have an affinity toward fuzzy things, even if they weren't fuzzy at all. She turned around to the board and pulled down a map of the world, pointing out the big pink hearts she'd drawn over the blue regions on them. "See! I love the ocean!"  
  
Refusing to vomit at her sickening syrupiness, Zim looked down at his desk, reading and observing some of the detailed and interesting things carved into it. Aside from the teacher's squeaky lecture, he could hear a jumbling of limbs. He spared a glance in the direction of the sound; Dib was jerking around as if someone had sat him on top of a huge washer/dryer, his head snapping up at odd intervals. It lasted for a while, growing steadily worse until a final jerk rolled him out of his desk and onto the floor with a sickening thump.  
  
Zim glanced around, noticing the rest of the class seemed oblivious.  
  
"Oh come on. No one else saw that?"  
  
Mrs. Sweet turned away from her chalk drawing of a seahorse. "Zim, please remain quiet while I continue my lecture," she reprimanded, turning back to her pictures.  
  
This is insane, Zim thought, leaning forward to look at Dib on the floor. He hadn't moved since he hit the ground. His body wasn't even shaking anymore. Since no one else seemed to mind, Zim got up out of his desk and knelt down beside Dib.  
  
"Come on, Dib. Wake up and get back in your desk. It's no fun when you make yourself look stupid." He poked at the body with his pointy fingers, jabbing them into Dib's head, side, shoulders and neck. He didn't respond. Getting annoyed, Zim turned him over on his back.  
  
A thin trickle of blood was slivering down from his nose. Zim figured he'd hit it when he hit the floor and shook his harder. "You're making a mess, Dib. Get up."  
  
"Zim, I'm warning you to remain seated and silent! Don't make me warn you again!"   
  
Zim narrowed his eyes. He really didn't like her very much. "I think the Dib needs to go to the nurse."  
  
Mrs. Sweet shrugged her shoulders, "He looks fine to me."  
  
Zim reached down and wiped at the blood with his finger, meaning to show the teacher how 'fine' he was but discovering something else entirely. He could feel no breath coming from Dib's mouth of nose. And with his eyes closed he certainly couldn't breath. Zim quickly scooped Dib into his arms, surprised at how little he weighed. This annoyed Mrs. Sweet even more.  
  
"And just what do you think you're doing now?" she asked, shaking her pink chalk at him.  
  
"He needs to see the nurse; he's not breathing!" Zim spat, walking out the door without a reply.  
  
Mrs. Sweet shook her head in dismay. "And he left without a hall pass."  
***  
  
This is a little more the length I like my chapters to be. I was a little dismayed at their length in Dementional Scope ::shivers:: I hate that title.... anyway, you like this so far? 


	2. Chapter Two

And now for the not so good chapter. I prefer to write plotless pieces that mostly revolve around inner monologue, but I can't seem to get plots out of my head. Too bad my first person writting skills are wanting. Anyway, that's my take on this. Now it's your turn to read and review ^,~ Beta-ed by Karyx!  
**  
  
Zim didn't realize he was running until he was out of breath. It wasn't that he was out of shape or that it was a long trip, but before he stepped into the dimly lit and rather depressing looking nurse's office he was gasping for air. The nurse looked up at him as if he had head pigeons, but he managed to gasp out the few words that mattered most.  
  
"He's...not...breathing..."  
  
A team of people came out of nowhere and took Dib from Zim's confining arms, leaving him cold and empty. Universally, if a creature does not breath, it is dead. Zim fell into a chair, his eyes following where his body was not permitted. They took Dib behind a sheet, the shadows they cast upon it letting him see the gist of what they were doing. Someone was leaning over Dib, their face right over him, their shadows melding together. Another had its arm under his neck, then at his palm, rubbing and pressing over the skin. The woman at the front desk was on the phone, calling for an ambulance. It was a frenzy of motion and voices. Perhaps sooner than it felt, the shadow on the bed jerked with a gasp. Zim felt his heart leap at the same moment, not realizing how anxious he had been in waiting. So his enemy was alive. One would have thought he'd be more relieved if he'd remained breathless and prone.   
  
The curtain pulled back and Zim was immediately on his feet again. One of the nurses looked at him with a sullen expression. "Let me guess: you want to see him?"  
  
Zim nodded slowly. "I would like to interrogate him on his resent health crisis."  
  
The nurse's expression quirked as she led him to where Dib rested. "Just get out of the way when the ambulance people get here."  
  
The Irkin nodded. He had no desire to be around when the human doctors came to take Dib away. The thought of medical equipment only brought back horrible visions of dissection tables. Not that he'd ever been on one, but he was proud of that fact and didn't wish to press his luck. Once around the curtain, he could see Dib and nearly turned away in disgust. He'd never seen his enemy look so weak. Dib's head lolled to the side, his eyes half closed and a breath mask over the lower part of his face, feeding him pure oxygen. Zim had never realized how thin he was. The clothing hid it pretty well but with his trench coat off and his bare arms exposed, one could see the delicate human bone structure. His skin wasn't even a healthy color. He'd always been pale but he had an almost green tint to him as he rested against the tan upholstered cot. His dull bronze eyes focused dimly on Zim's.  
  
"You..."  
  
The breath mask made it hard to speak and just as hard to understand what he said. Zim quickly interrupted, not wanting to waste his time trying to figure out what redundant questions were being asked.   
  
"I brought you here, yes. Seems I was the only one to notice or care that you...did that thingy...and stopped breathing." Zim smiled. "How does it feel to know your own rival cares more for you than everyone you fight for?"  
  
Dib let his head fall back against the pillow, his eyes sliding shut.  
  
Zim watching him for a while, then began to worry his bottom lip. "Come on, Dib. Open your eyes."  
  
Dib kept them firmly closed.  
  
"I mean it, Dib. If you don't open your eyes I'm going to...jump on your bed!" he threatened before realizing how childish that sounded. He didn't have time to think of anything more mature to say, because he was pushed aside by men in white uniforms, not that much different looking that the ones who had taken Dib to the nut house, and loaded him onto a stretcher.   
  
"Thanks for bringing him down here," the mindless zombie nurse at the front desk said. "Now go back to class."  
  
Zim nodded, grumbling as he made his way back down the halls to Mrs. Sweet's class. He was very confused. It wasn't every day that someone bounced around, then passed out half dead on the floor. Just as confusing as the event, were the emotions. He'd been...worried...about Dib. He could still feel the blood racing through his veins like mutant weasels. Dib was his enemy; the emotions did not make sense.  
  
As he walked through the door to class, Mrs. Sweets turned with a sour expression. "And just what was so important that you couldn't wait for permission or a hall pass?"  
  
Zim took his seat. "Dib wasn't breathing."  
  
"Oh." Mrs. Sweet pursed her thin lips in a pout. "And what was wrong with little Dibby?"  
  
"I don't know."  
**  
  
Dib regained consciousness slowly, shocked by the amount of pain that twisted up and down his body. He was used to the tremors and the pain but he'd never experienced anything as bad as this before. When he'd first come to, he remembered the coaxing pleas for him to come back and the pain of breath coming into his lungs. Now there was only stagnant air and pristine stillness to greet his senses. It had to be a hospital. Nothing else quite smelled the same.   
  
"I guess I'm running out of time."  
**  
  
Zim found Gaz after school heading out to her death mobile. Though he usually stayed as far away from it as possible, he made it his responsibility to obey his curiousity and follow her out for questioning.   
  
"What do you want, Zim?" she spat with animosity only he could counter.  
  
"Nothing. Just wanted to know if you heard about what happened to Dib."  
  
She shook her long, deep purple hair out of her face. "Like I care what happened to my dorky brother."  
  
"Well, he stopped breathing today and was taken away by an ambulance."   
  
Gaz stopped and stared, a scornful snarl forming on her lips. "If that asshole thinks he's going to get any pity out of me, he's dead wrong." She ducked into her vehicle and tried to shut the door. Zim's hand quickly intercepted it, though, and held it open.  
  
"If you don't mind me asking, what's wrong with him? He looked...not good."  
  
If the girl had a button that read "do not push," it was probably the one he had just river-danced over. Gaz slammed his hand in the door, keeping it closed firmly as he struggled and howled, whispering venomously, "You wanna know what's wrong with him? The same thing that's been wrong with him since the day he was born! The same thing that drove Dad into his labs and drove Mom away! The same fucking thing that ruined my chance at a normal family!" She opened the door long enough for him to pull his aching digits from it then slammed it and backed out without warning, nearly crashing into a mustang convertible and a senior citizen with a walker.   
  
Zim did nothing but stare in wide-eyed amazement, holding his poor, abused hand close to his chest. Something was going on. Something he had missed in over six years of studying his enemy. He was either a very bad spy or someone was hiding a very big secret very well. He hated to think it was the former, but at the same time hated to give his enemy credit for his secretiveness.  
  
Well, if one couldn't be subtle, there was always the direct approach. 


	3. Chapter Three

I love Dib! I love to torture Dib more, though. Anyone ever noticed the spell check knows it's not spelled 'torcher' but can't think of anything better to spell it as? If you noticed frequent spelling mistakes, it's for the same reason. ::sweatdrop:: Anyway... yeah.. not happy with this chapter... but in the same fashion, I can't think of any better way to write it. (Wow, I made it all come together in the end! I'm not just being random!) Anyway, my point is, I love Dib ^,~ Beta-ed by Karyx!  
***  
  
Dib was glad to be leaving the hospital. It smelled too much like what he imagined death smelled like. Most people might imagine death to smell like dead flowers or a musky, earthy aroma. Dib saw it more as a cleanness that stung your lungs with its strong purity. Which was another reason he hated the oxygen masks. The best way to describe it is when you've just had a strong mint and take a deep breath through your mouth. It's chilly and piercing, like tiny needles jabbing into your lungs. He hated that feeling. He hated the mask, he hated hospitals and most of all he hated having to use either of them.  
  
While on the subject of hating things, he hated being escorted out in a wheelchair. Why did they have to add insult to injury? Dib looked up at the pretty attendant that wheeled him down the slopes past the curious people in the front lobby. Hospital hospitality my ass, he thought as a child pulled on his mother's coat and asked what was wrong with the funny kid in the wheelchair. At least one person in the lobby seemed to understand the humiliation behind the escort.  
  
"How are you feeling, son?"  
  
Dib looked away out of habit. His father may have understood, but he also pitied his son. "I'll live."   
  
Professor Membrane nodded, motioning the lady to follow him out to the car. Dib sat as patiently as possible as they went through the emergency lane and into the patient pickup lot. He wanted to jump out of the chair and into the car but the lady made it her business to help him.  
  
Dib had never before shut a door closed quite so fast or with as much vicious intent. Professor Membrane considered himself duly warned as he thanked the attendant and seated himself in the driver's seat.  
  
"How bad was it?" he asked as he put the car in reverse and made his way out of the crowded parking lot.  
  
"They didn't tell you?"  
  
"Yes, but I want to know how bad you thought it was."  
  
"I almost died." Dib chanced a look over at his father, but remained facing mostly toward the window. As always, there wasn't much of a face to read. His father was still in his lab coat, which covered his mouth, and his eyes were hidden by goggles.   
  
"His name's Zim, right?"  
  
Dib startled. "What about him?"  
  
Professor Membrane shrugged. "The skool said he was the one who brought you in. You should have him over one night so I can thank him."  
  
Dib worried his brow. Zim had brought him in? He didn't remember that. "If Zim did anything to help me, it's just so that he can be the one to kill me later."  
  
"That's a very cruel thing to say."  
  
"He's an alien, Dad!" Dib shouted. "The same alien I've been trying to tell you about for six years!"  
  
"I thought we'd talked about this."  
  
"Yeah, Dad, we did. But you're wrong. I'm not crazy! Everything I've told you is true. Whatever's making me sick is NOT making me DELUSIONAL!" He let loose with a burst of adrenaline. He was pissed off enough at going through the embarrassment of the whole ordeal. He didn't even want to think about what skool would be like next time he went and now his dad was on his case.  
  
"I'm sorry if I've upset you."  
  
Dib crossed his arms over his chest and sat back in his seat. "It's okay. I just want to go home and forget about it.  
  
The Professor cleared his throat. "You and Gaz'll have to be on your own for dinner. I'll be working overtime again."  
  
Dib nodded. His father always worked overtime when something like this happened. Gaz was going to hate him for it, but there wasn't much he could do. When it was all over, she'd have her father back. Whatever way the end turned out.  
  
**  
  
"I can't concentrate with all these distractions!" Zim shouted, pulling at his antennae.  
  
"What distractions?" Gir asked from his slushy.  
  
Zim cast his a dangerous stare. "If you wish to remain operational, I suggest you go upstairs."  
  
"But I wanna stay with youuuuu!"  
  
The Irkin rolled his eyes. "I think I hear the scary monkey show..."  
  
"SCARY MONKEY!" Gir shouted, disappearing in a blast of smoke as he skedaddled upstairs to the couch where the broadcasting test lines squealed on the set. "I love this show..."  
  
Zim closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples. It wasn't so much Gir's distractions, though, on the whole, he added to the unwanted noise pile more than any piece of equipment in the base, as much as it was Dib.   
  
"Stupid human," Zim muttered, putting what he had been working on down for the third time. He was getting nowhere. His conversation with Gaz hadn't answered any of his questions either, only making new ones like little ripples in a pond. It all stemmed from Dib though. That was as much as he was sure of. He'd tried to find him at his home but it was empty. The human was probably still at the hospital. Just thinking about it made shivers travel the length of his squeedily-spooch.  
  
"STUPID HUMAN!" Zim threw his highly delicate instrumentation across the room, watching it explode in cheesy sparkler lights and smoke. "How can I plan on destroying mankind if I'm too busy worrying about you!" He rethought his sentence then laughed nervously, though no one had overheard him. "Hehehe, did I say worried? Why should I be worried about him? I'm just concerned, I mean...GAH!" Zim pushed off from the console and made his way back upstairs through the tabletop entrance. This was really becoming annoying.  
  
With his disguise in place he made it to the door. "I'll be back in a while, Gir. I have to deal with a small problem."  
  
Gir sat, completely involved in his program.  
  
"Gir? Gir!" Zim shook his head, deciding it better that the robot not realize he was gone, anyway.  
  
The walk to Dib's house was short; Zim's mind in constant thought had leaving little time for wondering "are we there yet?". His usual hesitance at the front door was gone and he quickly pushed the doorbell. He'd have rather just walked in, but keeping with earth customs was something he'd gotten used to disliking and doing anyway. He was almost sure the house would still be empty, so when the door did open he was rather startled.  
  
When two tired-looking gold eyes looked out at him, he was even more so.  
  
"Zim? What do you want?" Dib asked, rubbing one eye with his palm. He wasn't wearing his glasses, Zim noted.  
  
"I have some questions for you, worm monkey," Zim spat, letting himself inside and shutting the door. "Unlike with your sister, I won't enable you to slam my extremities in the door while you ignore me." Dib's confused glance followed Zim to the couch, where the alien made himself comfortable. "Now, tell me what's going on."  
  
Dib shook his head to loosen up the loose ends that Zim left hanging in his mind. "You really did help me at skool?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, yes, we all remember that. Now, tell me what I want to know!" One look at Dib and Zim realized he didn't remember. "It must be pretty bad if you forgot something without the help of my nano technology."  
  
Dib frowned. "Why should I tell you? So that you can use my weakness against me? Tough chance, Zim! Now get out!"  
  
"I must KNOW!" Zim raised a fist in the air. "What if I end up getting sick with what you had?"  
  
"You won't."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Positive. Now go!"  
  
"So it's not contagious?"  
  
"No. Leave!"  
  
"Then why did no one else help you?"  
  
Dib opened his mouth with a response, but found it was choked halfway out his throat. No one else had wanted to help him? Zim was the only one? ZIM? "Because...because..."  
  
"Was it for the same reason that Gaz didn't care?"  
  
"Gaz?"  
  
Zim nodded, leaning back and making himself comfortable. It was obvious he wasn't going to be going anywhere for a while. "I asked her about you and she started yelling about how it's all your fault about your dad and mom and her not being happy yadda yadda yadda. The little bitch slammed my hand in her car door!" He raised his hand for Dib to see. There weren't any visible markings on it, though.   
  
"What?" Dib held his aching head in his hands. He couldn't believe it. He always knew Gaz resented him, but he hadn't known how much or for what.  
  
"It hurt a lot too," Zim continued. "She said you've been like this since you were a baby. This interests me, since I never knew about it. I praise your ability to hide it this long, but it is time to tell me all."  
  
Dib writhed with anger. "You expect me to tell you anything after you come in here and insult me!"  
  
"You're eyes are beautiful without your glasses," Zim said smoothly.  
  
Dib startled. "What?"  
  
"If insulting won't get me what I want than I shall try compliments!"  
  
"Leave me alone!"  
  
"You're so cute when you're angry."  
  
"Out!"  
  
"I love what you've done with your hair."  
  
"Zim, enough!"  
  
"Has anyone ever told you you remind them of a young Fox Mulder?"  
  
Dib hesitated. "I do?"  
  
"Yes." Zim nodded. "A very sick Fox Mulder who wants to tell his superior about what ails him!"  
  
"You are incorrigible!"   
  
"Maybe so, but either way you are going to tell me for I will not move from this couch until I have been told!"  
  
Dib shrugged his shoulders. "Okay." Then walked upstairs to his room and shut the door.  
  
Zim sighed. "It seems my plan has developed a slight flaw."  
***  
"I make invading look goooood"  
see the pic at http://angelfire.com/gundam/niko/butterfly/zimngir.jpg  
  
I think that last bit is the only thing that saved this chapter from sucking as much as it should have. God bless humor. I actually have a pretty funny story about humor. Maybe I'll tell it sometime to make up for worse chapters than this! 


	4. Chapter Four

Two chapters a day is a nice way to say that I can't wait to get this over with. I'm kinda upset though. FF.net hasn't been updating the lists very often so it takes all day for anything I post to be put up. Oh well. Hey, check your clock! Is it 10? It's a little belief of mine that most people read fanfiction (slash in general) after/at 10. Beta-ed by Karyx!  
**  
  
Surprisingly, Zim never followed Dib up into his room. Dib had sat on the end of his bed facing the door, waiting for Zim to open it so he could shout at him for lying, but it never happened. After half an hour of waiting, he laid down on his bed, his tired head (which was NOT big!) falling gratefully into the fluffy softness of his pillow. He was too tired to sleep though. The drugs they had given him still coursed through his system. He was never quite sure why or how they did it, but they always seemed to turn him into a zombie, some waking creature of the undead wandering around in search of blood. Well, not the blood part anyway. But it kinda made him thirsty in some disgusting chain of thought. It soon became unbearable, the thirst that had only been an idea suddenly filling his mouth with sandy shores beckoning for a crested wave. He made up his mind and climbed back down the stairs, aiming for the kitchen.  
  
Zim still sat on the couch, looking bored and slightly pissed.  
  
"What are you still doing here?" Dib asked, his eyes wide even without his helpful glasses aiding their appearance.  
  
Zim grunted. "I waiting to take your sister out on a date and she's still getting ready. What does it look like I'm doing?"  
  
Dib looked around. Gaz hadn't come home yet. And his dad was working late. He knew Zim was being facetious, but it gave him pause for thought. He was alone with the potentially dangerous alien. Well, dangerous only if he left the couch, which didn't seem to be any time soon.  
  
"Look, I'm going to get a soda. You want anything?"  
  
Zim shrugged. "Sure, ya got Poop?"  
  
Dib nodded and headed off for the kitchen, grabbing the last two Poop's (Gaz was going to kill him for it later) and walking back into the living room. He handed Zim one of the sodas.  
  
"Thank you." Zim popped the top and took a drink. Dib sat across from him in one of the chairs, his feet resting on the footrest (ingenious name!).  
  
"You really want to talk to me," Dib said more to himself, but aware Zim could hear him.  
  
"Either that or I like the view from your couch." The alien's left eye quirked up. "So, are you going to tell me or am I going to become part of the décor?"  
  
"I don't know. You'd look pretty nice sitting next to the Official Professor Membrane lamp." Dib laughed lightly before coughing and resuming a more solemn pace. "This is kinda weird, ya know? I'm used to fighting you and outsmarting you. Talking isn't a daily thing with us."  
  
"So?"  
  
Dib sighed. "Alright. I doubt you'd have time to use it against me anyway. To be blunt, I'm dying."  
  
Zim nearly fell out of the couch. "What?! How can this be? You? Dying? And it's not MY fault?"  
  
Dib repressed a chuckle. "Sorry, they beat you to it."  
  
"They? Who's They?"  
  
"The aliens who abducted me when I was a baby."  
  
Zim pursed his lips together to refrain from making any stupid remarks. The first one that came to mind was what alien race in their right mind would abduct someone from a stupid planet like Earth and the second one was a direct assault on Dib. Both he kept to himself though.  
  
"I know it sounds crazy. I've tried to tell my dad, my doctors, everyone, but they still think it's a birth defect. But I remember being abducted. It's what made me look to the stars for every answer! It's what made me a paranormalist."  
  
"So, you were abducted by aliens. What's that got to do with you dying?" Zim asked.  
  
"They messed around with my brain. Gave me some kind of weird disease. For the most part it just eats at my body tissue, my brain to be specific. Lately it's gotten in the way of important electrical pulses causing me to have seizures. The way the doctors have it planned out, the disease will corrode my involuntary motor skills before I'm twenty."  
  
Zim whistled. "Very smooth. If your assumption is correct; you were abducted and they are the cause of this, they did a very good job disguising their interference." Zim took a sip of his drink. "But your father, this world famous scientist, he can't do anything to help you?"   
  
"He's been working on a cure since we found out about it." Dib became subdued. Zim found it odd that he spoke with more sadness about his father than he did his own physical tribulations. "Gaz hates me because I drove him into his lab. And I drove mom away as well. She didn't want to believe her son was going to die and she'd rather not have had any sort of emotional attachment to me knowing I wouldn't be around for long. So she left. Gaz's never forgiven me even, though it all happened when I was a year or so old."  
  
Zim stretched. He was growing quite tired of the couch, no mater how comfy it had been at first. "You know, I only asked about what as wrong with you physically, not for you to unload all your emotional baggage with it."  
  
Dib's empty Poop can crunched in his fist. "You brought it all up, not me!"  
  
"I was joking, Dib!" Zim rolled his eyes. "Not that I completely grasp your silly human humor. Frankly though, I'm not surprised your father hasn't been able to find a cure. If it was aliens, only an alien could locate the problem." Zim lifted what would have been an eyebrow, insinuating his thoughts.  
  
Dib caught on quickly but took a few moments to process. "You'd...help me?"  
  
"I've said it before, Dib and you know it as well as I do. I won't let anyone kill you but me, including your stupid stinking body full of peas!"  
  
"...I haven't been eating any peas..."  
  
"That's not the point!" Zim frowned, realizing his butt had succeeded in falling asleep. "The point is that I can aid you with my superior technology if you ask nicely."  
  
"Why should I trust you?" Dib countered.  
  
"I stayed on the couch, didn't I?"  
  
Dib worried his bottom lip, looking from Zim's sly features to his own thoughts on the idea. True, Zim had been sincere to his word so far. He was fidgiting enough on the couch for it to be known he was growing rather restless and uncomfortable. And what did he have to loose?  
  
"Alright, Zim. Tomorrow at your place."  
  
Zim nodded, happily jumping out of the couch and dashing to the door. "Don't worry, Dib beast. My superior technology will no doubt find what's wrong and cure you. And then you can go back to trying to stop me from conquering the world!"  
  
**  
My butt would be asleep too.  
~Niko 


	5. Chapter Five

It's come to my attention that I've come off as a Gir basher. Let it be known through all the country that I love that robot. It's just the pure and painful truth that he is an absolute idiot. But he makes it look goood! Anyway, no cruel intent when I call the simple thing a moron! Beta-ed by Karyx!  
**  
  
  
Being strapped to a table in the bowels of Zim's laboratory was bad enough; having three tubes sticking out of his head and more than enough noise-making machines at his side made it even worse.  
  
"Is all this necessary?" he asked, testing his bonds.  
  
"No...I just never get a chance to use any of it," Zim responded nonchalantly. He laughed manically as he pulled levers and pressed buttons. It was like a scene from Frankenstein. "Are you ready monkey slug?"  
  
"As ready as I'll ever be, space case."  
  
Zim smirked as he pressed the finally button with drawn out motions. The computer screen flashed to life. "Data Computed. Completed!"  
  
"Well that was anti-climatic."  
  
"QUIET!" Zim pressed a few more buttons, displaying the computer's findings on the huge monitor for them both to observe. "I knew you humans had a simple physiology but this is ridiculous. You only use 10% of your brain?"  
  
"Can we discuss this later?" Dib asked, trying to sit up. Zim decided it was more fun to keep him tied up. After all, Dib had left him sitting on a couch for almost an hour.  
  
"I suppose so. Computer, display all foreign chemicals, devices and such found in subject Dib's cranial cavity."  
  
"Possessing. PROCESSING!"  
  
With a swipe of the screen, a new display popped up.  
  
"I knew it!" Dib shouted, though he couldn't read anything. It was all in Zim's native language. The pictures were easy enough to understand, though. He figured the blue coloring was normal human brain activity while the flashing neon green stuff was what they were looking for. "I knew I wasn't crazy!" He looked over at Zim with triumph, only to see him frozen and frigid. "Zim?"  
  
"How can this be?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"This...this is Irkin technology!"  
  
Dib wished he were free so he could see Zim's face. "So? What's an Irkin?"  
  
"I am! Irk is my home. I thought I was the first one sent out this far in space!" Zim smacked his console. "Why was I not given such vital information? Whoever it was must have collected tons of information!"  
  
"Oh..." Dib smiled. "So...you're from a planet called Irk?"  
  
"Geah!" Zim turned around, shaking his fist. "We are not here to discuss ME!"  
  
"Fine...but...if it's your own technology...you can fix it...right?" Dib tried to hide the hopeful rise in his voice.   
  
"It's all a mater of computations and some more systematic checks to make a serum that will not be fatal to your feeble human DNA." Zim flipped the screen down. "Just a matter of time."  
  
"Do it now!" Dib insisted.  
  
"I can't. I have better things to do!"  
  
"That's real cold, Zim." Dib lay back, forgetting he was on a hard table and smacking the back on his head into it. "Ouch... You can't get someone's hopes up and then tell then they have to wait!"  
  
Zim buzzed his lips. "You said you had till you were twenty. What's a few more weeks?"  
  
"That's like saying 'what's a few more seizures!'" The human struggled again, wanting nothing more than to choke the information he needed out of the alien. "What if it corrodes too far into my involuntary nerve center? I'll be a vegetable!"  
  
Zim turned around, looking perplexed. "I guarantee you, this virus does not have the capacity to turn your body into a vegetable."  
  
"It's a saying, Zim! It means comatose."  
  
The Irkin shrugged, unstrapping Dib from the table and stepping back just in case the human had any thoughts of attacking. "I suppose that would be rather not good. I'll get to work on it soon, but I have more important things to worry about than my enemy's health."  
  
"You had time before."  
  
"Do not question me! I hold your only hope!"  
  
Dib shook his head. "I should have known better. This was all just a ploy so you could have something I needed dangling over my head. Well, Zim, it's not going to work like that!" He pushed past the alien and strode to the elevator. "I've gotten used to the fact that I'm going to die for that past eighteen years and as far as I'm concerned, I can live the rest of them just the same. I don't need you!" He lifted his arm to call the elevator but four thin digits pulled him around, facing now the cool ruby gaze.  
  
"I understand we've been fighting since the day we met, but have you ever thought it was just possible that maybe in all that time I've grown to enjoy having you around?" Zim threw Dib's arm down with disgust. "It took a lot of trust for you to come here today and a lot of faith for me to visit you yesterday. I thought maybe, MAYBE, you'd have felt the same as I do by now. I will always be your enemy on the battlefield but this is not a battlefield. This is my home and I invited you here. I offered my services and I promised to help you."  
  
Zim stepped forward an inch, watching Dib take one backward till he was backed against the door to the elevator.   
  
"You want to be...my friend?" Dib asked, swallowing the thick lump of stress that had formed in his throat.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"You can't be my friend and my enemy."  
  
"Why not? Batman dated Catwoman."  
  
"That's different!"  
  
"I thought it was what you humans called the 'power of love.'"  
  
Dib tired to hide the slight blush that crept over his face. "Real life doesn't always work like that."  
  
"I thought the rule of science was to hypothesize and experiment." Zim took a step forward, knowing Dib was trapped. A mere inch stood between them. "I'm saying it could. Least we could do is try."  
  
For one frustrating moment, Dib had forgotten what Zim was proposing. The whole dating analogy was messing with his mind; the power of love thing didn't help either. "What exactly do you want from me?"  
  
Zim put his hand on the wall space next to Dib's ear, enclosing him even more. "Your trust. A stab at friendship. An open mind. That's all."  
  
"In return for the cure?"  
  
"No." Zim smiled. "The cure is free. I ask for only what I give in return."  
  
Dib nodded dumbly, feeling more than a little flustered. "Can I go now?"   
  
"Of course." Zim stood up and walked away, giving the human room to breath and move. Dib took the opportunity and called for his escape vessel. "Will you be attending skool tomorrow?"  
  
Dib nodded. "I don't plan on missing much more. I'm already falling behind."  
  
"Mind if I walk with you?"  
  
Dib hesitated. "Um...sure. I guess. My house at six?"  
  
Zim agreed, letting Dib show himself out, and turned back to the screen. His shoulders slumped forward and he took a seat. "This is Irkin technology...but I've never seen anything like it before. If it weren't for the signs of viral aging and progressive damage...I'd swear this was recent. It's even more advanced that what I have at my disposal now!"  
  
"I'm gonna make a mud pie!" Gir shouted as he ran across the room. "MUUUUUUD PIE!"  
  
Perhaps 'advanced' wasn't the word he was looking for.  
***  
  
I was going to write more but there's no way I can beat that ending! Thanks everyone for reviewing! I find the best way to find good fics is to look at who reviews and go read their stuff (cause more than likely, if they're reviewing a ZADR, they write them too!) Anyway, I'll probably get the next part out today as well since it's only 4 pm. And as it seems, I have no life. VIVA LA SPRING BREAK! (yeah, I have no idea what I just said...) 


	6. Chapter Six

This is a very loooooooong chapter. But for once, I like it... that doesn't happen often... This was going to be shorter but I wanted to end it at a certain point and it just kept getting further and further away, especialy after I added the whole prickly ball thing... you'll see.. ^,~ Beta-ed by Karyx!  
  
***  
  
"Why don't you ride with your sister?" Zim asked as he and Dib brushed themselves off after jumping into the bushes for cover. The heavy exhaust fumes still clung in the air with a smell of burnt pigs. They had been walking together for a few weeks and though he was used to dodging the motorized demon, he never understood why one Membrane drove and the other took the pedestrian path of doom.  
  
Dib was quick with his answer, as if he'd thought about it before or had had to answer it one too many times. "One, I'm not one to have death wishes. Two, she wouldn't take me to school if I bought her every game available for the Game Slave. She hates me." Dib pulled a rather annoying piece of twig from the sickle part of his ink-black hair.   
  
"If you're her older brother, why don't you have a car?"  
  
"When they found out it was my motion nerves being attacked by the virus, they decided it wasn't safe for me to drive."   
  
Zim nodded, tapping his foot on the pavement as he waited for Dib to finish cleaning himself off. It seemed he's jumped into the prickly edge of the bush as tiny, fuzzy but painful balls clung to his shirt and pants. "I'm surprised you haven't asked me yet," he stated, deciding it best to just help the human and pulled at one of the stubborn balls on his collar.   
  
"About what?"  
  
Zim smiled. "About Irk. I've been waiting for you to ask about it for weeks since I slipped up. You told your little Swollen Eyeball friends?"  
  
"No. Actually I've been trying to find it with my telescope," Dib confessed, thankful for the help with the spiny collective he'd acquired.  
  
"Your equipment is pretty good, but I doubt it's powerful enough to get a good look at it." He shrieked as one of the balls stuck to his fingers, the stupid scratchy thing drawing a pinprick of blood. Zim quickly put his finger in his mouth with a wince.  
  
"What? It prick you?" At the same moment, Dib shrieked and put his own finger in his mouth. They looked at each other and began to laugh. "These things a real pain."  
  
"They'll be even more a pain if you end up sitting down on one."  
  
"Do I have some on my butt?" Dib asked, suddenly panicked. The last thing he wanted was to pit down and be stabbed in the ass by a mass of them.  
  
"Turn around," Zim instructed. Dib did as he was told, moving his trench coat over so Zim could check.  
  
Checking for prickly things was the last thing on Zim's mind though. It was all too convenient. Over the last few weeks of being "friendly," he had gotten to know the human better. He was more than just a worthy adversary. Even more amazing was the fact that he was more than just a paranormal enthusiast. Not much, but there was a part that could talk about something other than aliens for hours. Maybe it was because he was talking to an alien. Either way, that part was adorable. It was the part that didn't feel the need to prove everything he said was true, the part that just was and existed to be liked and adored. It was funny and sweet, insightful but not tactless, and maybe even a little bit innocent. So innocent that it gave permission for Zim to look at and, if in need, touch his ass.  
  
And, oh, was there a need. There were no little prickly things, the trench coat had protected that side of him from getting covered, but how was Dib supposed to know that? Zim smiled as he extended his hand and gave a firm pinch to the jean-clad flesh. Dib shot up with surprised pain and turned around, beat red.  
  
"Was that all?"  
  
"Just one more."  
  
Dib frowned but turned back around, not making near as big a scene as before, since he expected the pinch this time. It still stung, though. He turned around, rubbing his backside.  
  
Zim tried his hardest not to look too smug. "Next time, maybe we should walk in the street. It seems to be safer."  
  
Dib nodded and the two began walking once more. The hi skool was growing closer quickly, the sounds of terrified screams and whaling, pain-filled moans the tell tale signs of its eminent approach.  
  
"So, Zim. Any plans on world domination I should look out for today?"  
  
The Irkin shook his head. "I have more important things to work on."   
  
"You always have more important things to work on. If they aren't my cure or destroying all man kind, I get a little worried."  
  
"And what if I told you I only say that to keep what I'm doing a secret?"  
  
Dib stuck out his tongue. "Then I'd say I'm going to have to break out my spy gear and find out myself what's so big a secret!"  
  
Zim rolled his eyes. "That's called breaking and entering, Dib."  
  
"Our constitution doesn't apply to illegal aliens, Zim."  
  
"I assure you, I have every right to be here." Zim ran up the stairs to the entrance and held the door open for Dib. Dib nodded his thanks, but said nothing. Words aren't needed for everything.  
  
"Think Mrs. Sweet'll still be suffering from laryngitis?" Dib asked, sounding hopeful. Zim knew what he was asking though. He'd made a potion in his spare time to render the annoying teacher speechless on one of his less tolerant days. It had worked according to plan for the most part. Until the teacher had started spewing candle wax. It was, as Dib had pointed out when he had discovered Zim's little trick, an added bonus.  
  
Zim shook his head with a sly smile. "My test subject didn't get back to normal for a week."  
  
They plotted all the way to their shared first period class ways to rid themselves of the obnoxious teacher. Zim walked straight to class, Dib following since he really didn't have anywhere better to go. Suddenly, Zim stopped right in the doorway, the unwarned Dib smacking into his back.  
  
"How can this BE?!"  
  
Dib looked over Zim's shoulder and gasped.  
  
"You should be DEAD by now!" Zim shouted, pulling at his wig.  
  
The dark shadow over the desk made little of his shocked countenance. "I wish I were dead. Then I wouldn't have to deal with the collective stench of stupidity the classroom gives off." Mrs. Bitters wisped her way to the door, her pointy-framed eyes narrowed in disdain. "As it is, I enjoy watching my students grow up. There is no pleasure like watching the minds you've so carefully rotted fall under your least expectations and plunge into the doomed chaos that is life."  
  
"Mrs. Bitters, you haven't changed a bit." Dib cursed, pushing his way past Zim's motionless and shocked form in the doorway.  
  
"Ah, Dib. Still as crazy as you were in fifth grade?"  
  
"Not crazy. Astute."  
  
"Take your seat!" She flung her black arm in the direction of the far seat in the front row. Up until recently, it wouldn't have made a difference, but lately he and Zim had been sitting next to each other near the door.  
  
"But I don't want to sit there," Dib whined.  
  
Zim snapped out of his stunned stupor and took his normal seat. "Dib sits here now." He kicked at the chair next to him for emphasis.   
  
"Why? So you two can play footsy during lectures?"  
  
Zim had heard the term before and thought he didn't understand why anyone would play such a boring game, he did understand that it was a game of romantic involvement. "What have you heard, human?!"  
  
Dib quirked an eyebrow.  
  
In the end, Dib was sent to the other side of the classroom. Since no one was nice enough to either of them for there to be a chance of passing notes, they sat in silence, listening to how doomed they were to die of an asteroid collision with the planet.  
  
Doomed, Dib thought. I don't want to rush him, but if Zim doesn't do anything soon, I don't think there will be any point in trying.  
  
He looked over at Zim, finding the alien was looking at him as well.  
  
What important stuff was Zim working on? Dib worried his bottom lip. It was bugging him to no end. After the second refrain of "doom" from Mrs. Bitters, Dib made up his mind. Tonight, he'd spy on Zim.   
**  
  
The moon was invisible in the night sky. Dressed in his latest skin tight, black surveillance suit with ninja-like mask (he really liked the mask) and pen-sized camera clutched in his palm, Dib snuck past the lawn gnomes and to Zim's open window. No one was in the living room, though the TV was turned on and the sound was rather loud. Dib still moved as stealthily as possible, dropping behind things and ducking for cover every time the wind blew by.  
  
"Whatcha dooooin'?"  
  
Dib bounced up with a start only to see the harmless robot of Zim's sitting on the floor behind him with curious turquoise eyes alight.  
  
Gir smiled. "Yeah! I made a mud pie! You want some?"  
  
Dib shook his head. "I'm looking for Zim."  
  
"He went this way!" Gir stood up and ran to the trashcan, popping the top. "Down there!"  
  
Dib shook off the feeling that it was all a trap and stepped into the trash can, trying not to scream as he was sucked under and down strange piping. He could hear Gir right behind him.  
  
"Wheeeeee! I'm gonna be sick!"  
  
Oh god, not in here! Dib prayed. When the piping ended, he scrambled away from where the robot would land. Gir bounced off the ground and, while looking very sick, burped. There was never so much relief felt.  
  
"Hello, Dib."  
  
Until the stress built up again tenfold.  
  
"Gah!"  
  
Zim smiled, leering down at Dib on the floor. "I've been expecting you."  
  
"Expecting me?" Dib repeated.  
  
Zim offered him a hand to help him up off the floor, which Dib accepted, though warily at first. Was this considered on or off the battlefield? Was he supposed to be friendly or try to make a run for it?  
  
"It's okay, Dib." Zim smiled. "Seeing as I knew you would come, I'll consider this on friendly grounds."  
  
Dib relaxed, feeling the robot hug his leg.  
  
"Can we keep him?"  
  
Don't tempt me, Zim thought, grabbing Dib by the arm and dragging him off into his lab.  
  
"Where are you taking me?"  
  
"You wanted to see what I was working on, yes?"  
  
Dib nodded, catching up with Zim. Zim never let go of his arm, though. The rooms were vast, but nothing Dib couldn't figure out for himself. Still, he didn't mind being led around. They finally came to a stop in the middle of a tall, circular room. The walls were black with tiny pinpricks of light, like stars. In one area there was a huge planet; it was purple and grey, surrounded by tiny, fuchsia ships.  
  
"Hey," Dib remarked, "The picture moves!"   
  
"That's not a picture." Zim pulled Dib over onto a hover pad, sliding them over the air to where Dib could touch the wall with his fingertips.  
  
"It's beautiful."   
  
"It's Irk."  
**  
  
And I managed to step away form the plot for a whole...almost five pages? Hehe! I'm used to doing seven chapter stories (it just kinda happens that way) but it looks like this'll take a bit longer. And because in the past few hours I still haven't developed a life (though the lab results are hopeful) P'm probably gonna work on part seven now.  
  
I had to leave this beta note cause I thought it was funny ^,~  
  
*Heh, you misspell words like "matter" but you got laryngitis? Jeez, I wish I had that problem. It would make life away from my computer's spell-checker a lot simpler. ~Karyx 


	7. Chapter Seven

You know you've stayed up too late writing crap when you can't see the monitor and you're trusting your fingers to do the right thing even though you cheated through computer keyboaring class. Beta-ed by Karyx!  
***  
  
  
"Irk?" Dib's hand grazed over the smooth screen's surface. "Your home world?"  
  
Zim nodded. "I've never been there, but it is where Irkins began their evolutionary climb. We're colonizers. I grew up on Exsplodia, planet of things that go boom."  
  
Dib pursed his lips together, trying not to laugh. "Oh..." Irk didn't look that much different from earth, besides the coloring and the massive ships surrounding it and the lack of moons. Okay so the only similarity was that they were both round. But it didn't look very intimidating. "Is that your armada orbiting over the planet?"  
  
"No." Zim angled his head upwards. "Computer, show me the armada."  
  
Without delay the screen came to life with thousands of ships, spanning the entire screen that enveloped them in the circular room. Dib gasped and stepped back, forgetting that he was on a hovering platform. Zim quickly wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him back up, steadying him as the initial shock passed.  
  
If they come here, we're doomed, Dib realized. He'd never thought the armada would be so big. A hundred ships, maybe as many as two, but never this. He was even sure the light dots in the background weren't stars but more ships at a great distance.  
  
"You've...been working on this? Bringing the armada here?"  
  
Zim shook his head. "No. I was planning on showing you it."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because for the past six years, I've been studying your planet and using that information to combat you. You, on the other hand, have only been able to defeat me using your knowledge of me. It may prove more...even a battlefield if we both had equal means of acquiring data on the other." He pushed back from Dib, gesturing with both arms. "This lab will now answer to your voice pattern as well as mine and Gir's. You may use it whenever you like. Just ask and the computer will show you."  
  
Dib looked around hesitantly. "Just tell it what to do, huh?"  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Alright. Computer...show me...Mars," Dib requested. The screen buzzed to life with a vision of the runaway planet on a course to nowhere. "Hey look! It worked!"  
  
Zim nodded. "Simple, yes?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Worth breaking into my house to see?"  
  
"Definitely." Dib turned slowly, a solemn look on his face. "Is this your way of telling me you can't do anything for me?"  
  
Zim sputtered, "No...I...I'm still working very hard on it..." He swung the hovering platform back to the entrance, then stepped off. "I've had lots of important things to do."  
  
"I know! I know! You've always got something important to do." Dib stalked off the hover thing and past Zim. "Listen, thanks, but I've got homework to do. Just tell me when I'm important, okay?"  
  
Zim watched him leave, unable to keep his eyes from admiring how well the skintight black spy gear fit the lean body. His heart sank as he disappeared from the labs.  
  
"Awww...how come you don't help Dib?" Gir asked, snuggling up to Zim.  
  
"It's not like I haven't tried!" Zim said, flailing his arms. "You wouldn't believe how hard I'm trying! Every moment I'm not with him, I'm thinking about it or working on it. I don't understand how it can be! It's definitely Irkin technology, but it's so much more advanced than anything I've seen!" He slammed his fist down on something hard. "I don't understand! Sixteen year old technology isn't supposed to boggle my mind!"  
  
"Maybe it's not old," Gir said helpfully. "Maybe it's neeeewww."  
  
"Impossible, Gir! It happened in the past!"   
  
"I like playing with time!" Gir said, dancing around. He picked up a rubber piggy from inside his head. "Remember when we built that thing and put the piggies in it to destroy Dib in the past? I miss those piggies. I miss um baaad."  
  
"You stupid, stupid..." Zim's eyes glazed over, an upsetting thought making his head cave in. "Computer, check subject Dib's DNA viral code for any signature. Equip scan for coding and imaging files at microscopic levels!"  
  
Gir gave a shout of excitement; he loved it when his master played with the computer!  
  
Zim strolled evenly to his chair, sitting on its edge while data streamed across like racing moose. His advanced eyes followed each pattern that scrolled, hoping to catch anything the computer missed. The data stopped mid-frame, a magnified division being brought up in a new window.  
  
"Identification configured. Signature traces found in alternating decimals."  
  
"Visual."  
  
Assorted patterns of red and green were splotched together in the new copulation. Zim sighed. Another dead end.   
  
"Yeah! Let's watch Scary Monkey!" the robot shouted, perched on Zim's head.  
  
"Not now Gir. I have-"  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"It's-"  
  
"What is it?!"  
  
"It's-"  
  
"I know what that is!" Gir sat up, pointing his metallic finger at the screen. "It's you!"  
  
Zim rolled his eyes. "Get off my head, GIR."  
  
"Lookie!" Gir leapt off his master's head and hugged the computer screen. "See?" He took a marker of his head and began writing on the equipment.  
  
"Gir! Stop that immediately!"  
  
"I'm making a pretty picture!!!!!!!" Gir said shrilly.  
  
"Enough, Gir! I'm working here!"  
  
"Done!" Gir jumped off the console and onto the floor, walking away while humming a little song he'd just made up.  
  
Zim shook his head. "Stupid piece of useless junk. I'll tell you what the G stands for, Gir: GARBAGE!" He looked up, not at all happy with the black marker mess his Sir unit had left for him to clean. "It's supposed to be my slave, not the other way around!" He stood up, taking the end of his shirt and trying to wipe it away. As he looked up, he saw his reflection in the screen, perfectly outlined in Gir's black marker. "What?"  
  
Zim took a step back, then another, then another. Before he knew it, he was half way across the room, looking at the computer screen. The green dots formed a flawless face, the red ones giant eyes. It was Zim's own face, just as Gir had said. "But...how can this be...?! Computer, run detailed schematic of my face, the face in this picture and all archived Irkin Invader's faces in action eighteen years ago!"  
  
"Possessing. PROCESSING!" There was ding as if a microwave had just gone off. "Analysis complete. Compatibility of picture and subject Zim's face: 100%. Second match, 20%: Invader Flem. Third, 17%: Invader-"   
  
Zim fell to the floor, holding his head while inaudible phrases fell from his lips.  
**  
  
Dib crawled back into his house through his bedroom window. It wasn't like anyone cared that he had snuck out nor was it likely anyone had even noticed he was missing. Something about being dressed like a surveillance ninja really demanded that kind of entrance, though. He hit the floor quietly with a roll, deciding to play the part out to it's fullest. He missed playing the sneaky undercover Swollen Eyeball member, agent Mothman. He still was in name, but it had never felt the same since he had agreed to try the whole friendship thing with Zim. It wasn't sneaking in if more than likely the door was open for you to walk in anyway. And with Zim not planning anything for weeks, he began to feel neglected. Not that Zim wasn't making it up in other ways, but still, the rivalry was dwindling.  
  
And so was time.  
  
Dib cursed himself for being so rude. Zim had probably gone through a lot of trouble to get the computer to recognize his voice pattern. If he put so much time into trivial things like that though, why couldn't he hurry up and find the cure Dib wanted desperately? This was the first ray of hope he'd had all his life and Zim kept stepping in the way and casting a shadow over him yet again.  
  
A shiver passed through his body. He had left the window open. The skintight clothing wasn't a very good insulator. He shivered again. And again. But it wasn't shivers; he didn't even feel cold. It was pain, blinding and white hot. He tried to scream, tried to crawl to the bedroom door. The world was engulfed in darkness before he even thought to panic.   
***  
  
That's all either very elightening or very confusing. 


	8. Chapter Eight

I feel so refreshed now after sleeping in 12 hours! Anyway, I know I'm horrible at spelling, guys. Spellcheck hates me and so does my phonetic mind (hooked on phonics was a joke! It would only work if the english language was phonetic!!!)! My biggest problem (aside from the fact that I can't spell) is finding a beta reader that can keep up with the speed at which I write. The last one I had took a week to getting around to it ::mumbes under breath:: Guess the fact that they have lives kinda bugs me ^,~ But if thirty people say I reeeaaallly need to get one (to which I agree and smite my insolent hands) then I'll try. Anyone know where I can get a good one? Or even a mediocre one. Better then me is fine and probably easy to attain ^,~ Beta-ed by Karyx!  
  
And now... the angst...  
**  
  
When no one answered the door the next morning, Zim knew something was wrong. He was standing in the lobby of the hospital before his mind even registered he'd walked to it. It seemed a lot calmer than TV made it out to be. A few people sat in the chairs reading phony magazines or hugging their loved ones. Only a few white-coated personnel walked around, most of them sitting behind a counter looking at their fingernails while the ceiling talked in hushed but highly annoying voices.  
  
"Can I help you?"  
  
Zim looked at the fair skinned woman with ruby red fingernails. Her face held a mildly surprised look.   
  
"My god, kid. What's wrong wid your FACE?"  
  
Zim shook his head. "I need to know if Dib Membrane is here."  
  
"De crazy kid?" the lady leaned forward. "Yeah, he's here but only family's allowed in dere."  
  
"I have to see him! He's my friend!" Zim ordered. He was beginning to dislike her very much.  
  
She looked down at a chart on her table. "I always hoird de kid didn't have any friends. Kinda made me feel bad for him, ya know? Sure de kid's nuts but he's awful sick. And wid his family..." She looked around, as if she were worried someone might overhear her, before leaning over closer. "Listen, his family ain't here. Deys neve' visit him when he's here. Take dis family pass and just say you're his cousin if anyone asks, alright?" She handed him a visitor patch with an adhesive backing. "Third floor. Room 316. Got dat, honey?"  
  
Zim nodded, writing his name on the sticker tag and placing it on his chest. The lady smiled and went back to looking at her fingernails.   
  
The hallways weren't crowded, in fact less so as he journeyed up the floors. Still, the occasional stretcher with prone body was raced down the halls accompanied by seven people and assorted tubes. Zim's heart leapt every time one passed, but the faces never rang familiar in his mind. And then there was room 316. Zim put his hand on the doorknob and waited. Whether it was for his nerves to calm or for Dib to jump out and say 'joke's on you Zim!' he wasn't sure. When it seemed neither was likely to happen any time soon, he twisted the metal handle and walked in.  
  
The room was dimly lit for a hospital room, where the florescent white lights overhead shone the brightest of bright light onto everyone. Which was annoying. Zim walked to the foot of the bed, trying not to puke as his gaze fell to his friend.   
  
There were more tubes that flesh, more machines than life surrounding the little bed and the body that lay on it. There were tubes coming out his nose and his arms, horrible incessant beeping noises and whooshing air sounds that droned on and on. It was like something out of a movie, not real life.   
  
"Dib?"  
  
Only the machines answered. Zim crept closer to the bed, reaching out a hand to touch the sleeping young man on the bed.  
  
"What are you doing in here?!"  
  
Zim turned around, startled beyond his wildest beliefs. He'd imagined it being the professor or some doctor who realized he wasn't human. A doctor stood there, yes, but he looked angry, not joyous as most people had been when they'd discovered he was an alien.  
  
"Family in here only," the doctor instructed.  
  
Zim muttered and stumbled for the right words, but found all he could do was point to his nametag.   
  
The doctor seemed to understand. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't realize anyone had checked in to see him." He strolled over to the bed and picked up the clipboard from the end, flipping through the pages. "Did they tell you what happened?"  
  
Zim shook his head. "I came when I found out he wasn't home."  
  
"Hm." The man put the clipboard down. "There really is no easy way to say this. Dib is in a coma."  
  
The Irkin bit the inside of his cheeks to keep from screaming.  
  
"Last night he suffered a series of seizures and wasn't discovered till this morning by his father. We hooked him up to life support when he got here, but there's no telling if there is any brain damage. Testing proves he has lost most involuntary motion. Professor Membrane is looking over the paper work now." The doctor frowned with sympathy. "There's nothing more anyone can do. His mind has stopped telling his heart to pump and his lungs to breath. The machines are all that's keeping him here. We're going to have to pull the plug." He put a hand on Zim's shoulder, noticing his tense body language, feeling his rapid pulse under the shirts. "I'll leave you alone with him."  
  
He walked away and the door shut, leaving Zim alone in the dimly lit room. It was as if all he needed to hear was the click of the door closing for the gates to fall and the tears to well up.  
  
"Dib..." He crawled closer, keepings his hands on the bed at all times in case his legs were to give out on him like his mouth had. Everything he'd ever wanted to tell Dib, everything he'd ever regretted, had vanished from thought, leaving him speechless with nothing but his sorrow and the echoes of Dib's last words to him:  
  
'Just tell me when I'm important!'  
  
"You are important, Dib!" he shouted, grabbing one of the hands that lay over the tightly drawn blankets. He brought it up to his face, caressing it with his cheek and tears. "You're the most important thing in my life! I tried to help you, Dib...I tried...."   
  
He choked back a sob, speaking louder to get around the lump that tried to silence him into mindless moans. "I didn't want you to think I couldn't do it! I wanted you to see me as strong and all-powerful! I wanted you to look up to me! I didn't want you to know it was too hard...that I couldn't do anything...and that...it's all my fault! All of it! ...I did another test last night, Dib. You know what I found out? I did it. I abducted you and did all this. It was me. The future me. I used my stupid time machine and finally got rid of you... I don't know what possessed me in the future to do this...but that doesn't change anything I feel now...I love you, Dib...I would never want to hurt you!" He put Dib's hand to his lips and kissed it gently, feeling the cold skin under his own. "I don't know what to do, Dib...I don't know how to make everything better! How can I stop what hasn't happened yet?! Who's gonna be around to stop me when I do it...if you're not there..."  
  
Zim let his head fall to the bed, one arm wrapping around Dib's waist while the other clung to his hand. It felt like he'd cried for centuries, his entire body shaking with pain and sorrow.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
Zim was too upset to care who saw him. No one was going to take him away.  
  
"Are you...Zim?"  
  
The Irkin turned his head, seeing nothing but a huge white coat and goggle-covered eyes. Professor Membrane. He'd seen him on TV before. He was much taller in person. Dib's father looked at Zim's nametag and smiled. "I thought it was you. Dib used to talk about you all the time..."  
  
Zim wiped his damp face with his sleeve. "You can't make me leave," he stated, holding onto Dib's hand tighter.  
  
Professor Membrane shook his head. "Dib would have wanted you to be here. I have no intension of making you go." He walked to the other side of the bed and ran his fingers through his son's hair. "Gaz is filled with too much hatred to come; she blames him for everything."  
  
"I know."  
  
The professor nodded. "It isn't as if he wanted it to be like this. But I'm sure if he had to choose...he'd have wanted to go with his friend at his side."  
  
Zim didn't like the way the professor spoke. His words were foreboding. "Of what do you speak, earth man?"  
  
Professor Membrane turned to the life support machine and, with delicate movements, clicked the switch off. 


	9. Chapter Nine

Short, yes, and not good. But I'll be away for a while. OMG it'll be my first break from putting a new fic/chapter up in....over a week? Wow...I scare me. Beta-ed by Karyx who not only beta-ed all of my IZ fics but did so in a week! And I thought I worked fast! BLESS YOU KARYX!!!  
**  
  
At 7:33 the patient in 316 flat lined. The scream that filled the void echoed as medical personnel pulled a hysterical teenager from the room, the green skinned youth kicking and screaming while obscenities flew from his mouth like spit.   
  
"How could you do that?!" he shouted, trying to charge at the tall man with black, wavy, sickle-like hair. A guard, losing his grip on the young man's arm, grabbed hold of his head. The black hair pulled back from the green-headed teen as a collective gasp filled the room.  
  
Two thin antennae popped up, leaving the noseless, earless, ruby-eyed alien standing in the middle of a hospital, surrounded by doctors, security guards and the world renowned scientist, Professor Membrane.  
  
The gig was up. Zim sank to his knees, the guards letting go of him in shock. He didn't have the strength to fight anymore.   
  
"It's...it's an alien!" a woman shouted. It was all it took to unleash mass hysteria. The security guards stepped back, trying to keep the patients and visitors from coming too close to the "dangerous" monster on the third floor.  
  
"My son..."   
  
Zim looked up, for the first time seeing emotion on the professor's face; trickles of water flowed under the black goggles.  
  
"My son wasn't crazy after all...."  
  
Zim smiled. He may not have been able to save his friend's life, but at least now Dib's memory wouldn't be tarnished with insanity. He hung his head, a small smile on his face. "You've won, Dib. Everyone knows. And now you'll finally be famous."  
  
Defeat never felt so good.  
**  
  
The first thing Zim learned to love about Earth was its gravity...  
  
**  
The end! Now go read the sequil/prequil "Backward Spirals" to see why this all got started! 


End file.
